Tell Me How You Really Feel
by Arnarkusaga
Summary: First time attempting a short fanfic of DBZ/Super, so be gentle with me. Bulma’s feeling self-conscious due people’s comments about her body, and Vegeta has a word to say about it. PG-13, Nudity mention, Sex Mention, Language.


Bulma stood in front of a mirror with her hands on her hips, looking at herself from head to toe with a frown, still naked and wet from her shower. She could hear the shower in Vegeta's bathroom going and was glad she had insisted on separate bathrooms when they rebuilt the Brief's family home for what seemed like the twentieth time. Vegeta was a bathroom hog.

She touched the underside of her left breast, sighing, moving it this way and that, observing how much flatter it seemed from ten years ago. Hunching forward, she shook her shoulders gently so that her breasts swung, then straightened swiftly, unhappy with how little bounce-back they had. She did this another two times, hoping to see something different.

"What on earth are you doing?" Vegeta asked from the doorway.

Bulma hadn't heard him come in and winced internally. They had been testing a wearable, portable gravity generator all day and the tests had not gone well. There had been several screaming matches and at some point they had just silently agreed to go their own way for a while. She hadn't spoken to him since and didn't really feel like dealing with him.

"Maybe I should get a lift," Bulma said quietly, mostly to herself. "Since everyone and their brother has something to say about how saggy my boobs are," She said sourly. "I guess twenty five years and two kids will do that to a person."

"What are you prattling on about?" He asked, removing the towel from around his waist and riffling through a drawer for something to sleep in. Covertly, she snuck a peek at his practically perfect body with disdain and a whole heaping helping of jealousy.

"A breast lift," She clarified. "It's a surgery where a human woman get her boobs put back where they're supposed to be." She turned to her side to examine them and noticed her buttocks were drooping a little, too. "Maybe I'll get my butt done, while I'm at it." She used her palms to lift them up and let them fall, wholly disgusted.

When she looked back up in the mirror, she saw Vegeta was standing behind her, now dressed in a black tank top and grey shorts. He was looking her up and down from the back and front.

She grimaced. _Great_. Vegeta didn't understand the concept of tact or holding his tongue to spare someone's feelings. He had no brain-to-mouth filter at all; he just said whatever he thought at any given time. The last thing she needed was his brutally honest opinion. She'd been feeling vulnerable about her body for a long time, and he had the ability to destroy her self confidence from the ground up. She braced herself for whatever thoughtless thing he was gearing up to say.

Instead of speaking, he stuck his hands under her arms and around her body, letting them settle on the skin below her collarbone for a moment before sliding down over her breasts, cupping them with his thumbs resting on her nipples.

She was stunned into stillness at this behavior. Normally he insisted they didn't touch like this unless initiating sex, but considering the day they'd both had, she didn't think that was likely.

That didn't seem to be his angle, though. He lightly bounced her breasts in his hands as though weighing a bag of coins before letting his fingers drift down over her ribcage and linger at her waist, which was admittedly still slim, despite two children. His hands then moved to her hips, which were wider than they used to be, and around her backside and up the skin of her posterior. When he reached the base of her spine, he let go.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said curtly as he headed toward the bed, pulling the covers back. "Stop being an idiot and go to bed." He threw the covers over his legs and laid on his side, facing Bulma's half of the bed, and closed his eyes.

Her head rocked back. She didn't know what to make of that. Vegeta did not pay compliments. He had never said he loved her or that she was beautiful and likely never would. Hell, getting him to agree to marriage had been nothing short of a goddamned christmas miracle. She wasn't deluded enough to think he was saying something nice to make her feel better. As far as he was concerned, what he had just said was simply a fact and nothing more, and the tone of his voice made it clear that he thought having to say that fact out loud was absurd.

She decided against wearing any nightclothes and slipped into bed nude, turning the lamp off as she did. She used to sleep naked more often but had stopped as she had gotten older. She settled her body into the curve of his, expecting him to roll away, but he didn't.

"Your ass feels like you've been sitting on ice," He complained, but he didn't pull away. He actually nestled a bit closer and laid a hand on her hip. If Bulma didn't know better, she would think he was being almost… affectionate.

It didn't last long. He released his hold on her and rolled away, though his back still touched hers. Within a few minutes, the change in his breathing signified that he was unconscious.

Bulma closed her eyes and smiled. _You know what_ , she thought. _I look awesome for my age. And if it's good enough for him, everyone else can go fuck themselves._

Her last thought before sleeping was that Vegeta had earned the blowjob he was going to wake up to.


End file.
